


in another life

by lonnoblea



Category: Room of Swords (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Ancient Greece, M/M, Modern Era, Sirens, World War II, medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23656852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonnoblea/pseuds/lonnoblea
Summary: They were drawn to each other in every life.They were soulmates in every sense of the word.
Relationships: Gyrus Axelei/Kodya Karevic
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	in another life

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this instead of doing homework LOL

_1211 A.D. - CHINA_

Gyrus wouldn’t remember this time around but Koyda was okay with that.

As long as one of them knew, as long as one of them _remembered_. 

They always found each other amidst every past life. Everything around them changed with the times but this was a constant. Their spirits were stars, blazing balls of light that pulled them together—thoughtless and primal and ever so destructive in their pursuit of the other. But they were glorious, they were souls that shined brighter than the void around them.

Sometimes it was dark, it was black and inky and they were hurtling towards an end—unsure of what the _end_ was. But they were together and they always entered the light together. And, suddenly, it was bright and warm and painful. The other soul would be gone—his other half was gone. Resurrection was lonely and it would stay lonely until they found each other. 

And they always did without fail.

They were drawn to each other in every life.

They were soulmates in every sense of the word.

  
  
  
  


_800 B.C. - ANCIENT GREECE_

The first time Kodya remembers it floods him until he is neck-deep in a lifetime’s worth of memories. It is unbearably nauseating and brings about a horrendously desolate feeling until Kodya is forced to scour all of Greece until he finds his second half. He feels crazy, travelling hundreds of miles to follow the pull in his chest, blindly searching for something— _someone_ —that could very well be a fabrication of his mind. 

But Kodya didn’t think himself to be delusional.

The lonely gap in his soul has been expanding and consuming—and he is exhausted to the brink of insanity—when he finally finds who he has been endlessly searching for. 

He spots Gyrus in a crowd of people and Gyrus sees him too. The hole in his chest begins to fill and warmth blossoms throughout his chest. He finds it very hard to breathe.

The world around them becomes quiet and hazy.

“I loved you in a previous life.” The words tumble out of Kodya’s mouth before he has the mind to stop himself.

Gyrus looks as disbelieving as Kodya feels, his hand reaching out for him yet stopping in midair—afraid that Kodya would disappear upon touch. There is a beat of silence between them, a tense moment where they are stuck in time, locked in each other’s stares.

Kodya can see when the dam breaks in Gyrus’s mind, when he forgoes fear and his lips tug into a huge grin. There is longing and relief and _love_ lying heavily in the shared air between them.

“Oh, _Kodya_ , oh, how much I’ve missed you.” 

Gyrus let out a heavy breath, the air rushing out him sounded manic and hurried. His eyes fill with mirth and tears as he continues,

“I have been searching endlessly for you. I have been tearing apart taverns and markets, scouring Greece from its top to its bottom. I’ve dreamed of the day we reunited yet nothing can compare to this very moment.” 

A laugh escapes Kodya—breathless and incredulous—and Gyrus stumbles a bit closer, every inch of his being drawn to the sound of Kodya’s joy. Gyrus had always been quite the romantic sap compared to his partner and Kodya nearly weeps tears of joy realizing that he hasn’t changed a single bit. His smile is as radiant as Kodya remembers, the twinkle in his eye as youthful and bright.

“Gyrus,” Kodya breathes. He is almost rendered speechless yet Gyrus still seems to understand.

He reaches forward and so does Kodya.

They touch and everything is fire.

Their love is quiet in this life—hidden from prying eyes yet sacred to them nonetheless. They retire to a worn cabin behind a hill, Kodya wakes up with the bird songs to hunt the critters of the forest to sell at the marketplace while Gyrus walks an hour every morning to teach his young disciples in the nearby village. Their earnings are slim and the work is difficult but it is a worthwhile trade for every night they spend together. Their home is modest yet it is everything to them.

They are everything to each other.

The universe grants them a long, fulfilling life this time around and Kodya will die with the taste of figs and tears on his lips. 

Pink is creeping into the sky and the night begins to come to life.

“Promise me you’ll find me again,” Kodya whispers, his voice hoarse and weak. 

He grips Gyrus’s hand with as much life that he had left within his body and Gyrus squeezes back. There are unshed tears in both of their eyes, none of them ready for Kodya’s departure. 

Yet Gyrus powers on, strong and unwavering, because Kodya needs him right now.

“I would never dream of doing otherwise. No matter where you are, no matter the distance between us, I will break mountains to reunite with you.”

Kodya seems satisfied with his answers, his eyes slipping close and a small hitch of breath escaping his mouth. There is peace in the room but war in Gyrus’s mind. Still, he smiles, sad and a little bit too tired, Kodya’s hand feeling limp in his own.

“I love you, Kodya.”

He doesn’t respond.

Gyrus follows him two months after.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_1944 A.D. - BELGIUM_

Neither of them will remember this time.

The world is at war.

His own country—once regarded as a safe haven—is ravaged to the brink of destruction with bitter strife, hounded by a shadow of German soldiers. His village becomes a hellscape of slaughter, greed and fear. Kodya doesn’t know how he’s survived this long, donning dark hair and brown eyes in this lifetime. 

He grimaces. There has been gunfire and terror these past days, nobody has known peace ever since their arrival.

Mercy finds Kodya four years later when British and French forces begin swarming into his country and there isn’t much left of his home by the time Belgium is regained, but he is grateful nonetheless. 

He is there when the Germans arrive and he is there when they leave. There is a pitiful pride that bubbles in his chest at the thought.

His community spends the next few weeks rebuilding, resurrecting churches and celebrating their newly-found old freedom. It is safe, it is peaceful, it is what they all have been dreaming of for years.

Kodya is elbow-deep in soapy water when a soldier in blue approaches the front of his door. He is silent, watching Kodya wash the star off the window of his store with an eerie calm.

He picks up a spare towel lying beside Kodya before wiping at the graffiti alongside him. Kodya pauses for a moment, before shrugging.

They clean in silence and when they are done, Kodya lets out an appreciative hum and a grateful smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, I’m just happy to help,” the soldier responds before letting out a sigh, grimacing at the tainted water at their feet. “Awful men, weren’t they?”

Kodya nods, sparing no other commentary. The threat has long since passed yet Kodya could not resist the compulsion to remain silent. The soldier seems to understand his wariness. It wasn’t too far ago when Kodya’s life had been under heavy surveillance by German soldiers.

He smiles, youth bleeding from his face, and Kodya feels a painful pang of _something_. The soldier seems too young for this war, too out of place and Kodya fights back the throb of pity that floods his chest. His community is finally free and all Kodya can feel is tired and frustrated for losing part of his youth to bloodshed. 

God, they were both far too young for this.

A voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

“I’m Lieutenant Axelei, but you can just call me Gyrus. What’s your name?”

"Kodya."

“Have you always lived here?”

“Haven’t left ever since I was born.”

“Wow, yet your English is remarkable,” Gyrus muses. Kodya feels himself swell up with pride but he stifles it down in favour of modesty. 

“Thank you, my dad was a scholar,” Kodya says and Gyrus doesn’t miss the subtle ‘ _was’_. His expression softens, still smiling but there is an element of grief to his features. 

“My condolences, I see this bloodshed has been a burden to countries all across the world.”

Kodya waves it off. The war is far from over but Kodya is grateful for the present so he opts to change the topic.

“Where are you from? You’re wearing blue but talk has been that Britain has soldiers from several colonies fighting in the war.”

“You’re quite bright aren’t you?” Gyrus grins, straightening his uniform. “To answer your question, I’m Canadian.”

They spend the rest of day trading stories of their homes and culture. By the time the sun has dipped into the horizon, Kodya and Gyrus are exchanging jokes and teasing jabs. Kodya feels an odd pull from the pit of his stomach and he idly wonders if Gyrus feels it too. His face is softly lit back the orange hue of the setting sun and Kodya swallows. His mouth feels dry, his palms a little sweaty.

Everything about this moment feels very familiar.

Without warning, Gyrus leans in and presses his lips against Kodya’s.

Kodya is startled but he kisses back after a beat of hesitation. 

Gyrus draws his lips away as quickly as they came and Kodya nearly whines at the loss. He seems flustered, pressing lightly on his own lips. 

“I apologize, I should not have done that.”

“What if,” Kodya swallows and Gyrus watches the bob of his Adam's apple, “what if I liked it?”

For a brief moment in time, there is a frightening adoration in Gyrus’s eyes and Kodya feels a flare of hope. But then Gyrus shakes his head, pushing Kodya back and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Koyda is prepared for the rejection but it doesn’t hurt him any less.

“I can’t, Kodya, I have a wife— _Tori_ —I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

He feels his heart shatter but he smiles nonetheless.

“I understand.”

Gyrus does not return the next day and Kodya chastises himself for being so hopeful.

He steps outside of his shop to search for another soldier donning a blue uniform, hoping to repair whatever companionship he had with Gyrus before the incident. 

“Hello, sir,” Kodya greets, formality leaking into his tone as he approaches a soldier. 

He grunts his greeting and Kodya takes that as a chance to continue, “Have you seen Lieutenant Axelei by any chance? I wanted to talk to him about a matter but I can’t seem to find him anywhere.”

The soldier gives him a gruff nod.

“Oh, him? The Canadian troops were gathered up yesterday. He’s been sent away wherever they need him.”

Kodya stumbles back, shakes his head before stuttering out his gratitude. He walks home briskly, his heart heavy and his pulse loud and thrumming to his own ears. 

There is an empty hole in the middle of his chest, a chasm that feels inky and desolate. He feels foolish grieving for someone he never had, for something that could’ve been.

Yet Kodya couldn’t help but wonder if Gyrus feels it too.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_1665 A.D.- THE CARRIBEAN_

Gyrus remembers but Kodya doesn’t.

The salty smell of the sea wafts in the air as the ship almost rocks smoothly with the morning waves. 

Kodya is on the deck, absentally leaning against the rail and observing the rising sun, when he first hears it. At first it is so quiet, a whisper among the crash of waves, and Kodya believes it to be a fragment of his imagination, but then the sound comes again. A voice fills the air, so velvety warm that Kodya is captivated within seconds. It is haunting and powerful and undeniably real.

The song of a siren. 

There are shouts behind him, the others beginning to realize the depth of the situation. The voice only grows stronger—louder—until it is the only thing Kodya can hear.

He finds his body moving against his own will, feels the soft, moldy wood underneath his palms as he vaults himself over the railing. 

And for a moment, there is only exhilaration. The sensation of falling and hazy numbness. Out of the daze of his mind, he can barely make out a figure swimming in the ocean beneath him. Something humanoid yet not human, something beautiful yet lethal nonetheless. 

It smiles— _there’s too much teeth_ —before reaching its arms out for Kodya.

Kodya barely registers the cries of alarm from his shipmates when he dives headfirst into the water.

  
  
  
  
  
  


His crew won’t come back for him, and Kodya doesn’t feel offended. It is a known fact among sailors that there is no escape after one has succumbed to a siren’s claws. Yet he doesn’t feel dead, he feels warm—comfortable even. 

Kodya shifts his limbs and is surprised to find fabric underneath him. Enough fabric piled over fabric that Kodya’s body dips on the makeshift nest. There is the sound of dripping water that sounds distant to his ears and a heavy weight settled against his chest.

He opens his bleary eyes, wiping away the crust with the back of his hand, before registering the interior of a cave and the very _lethal_ predator nuzzling his chest.

“You’re awake, Kodya.” He smiles, lips tugging around his alarmingly pointed teeth, and Kodya takes a moment to shake himself out of the paralyzing fear before he notices something odd.

“How do you know my name?” Kodya blurts out.

He frowns and Kodya barely suppresses a shudder under that vivid, purple stare.

“You don’t remember?”

Kodya shakes his head frantically and the siren seems contemplative.

“Oh, well then,” he finally says. “This must’ve been quite the scare for you, huh.”

There is a tense silence between the two, the siren seems flustered while Kodya is scared out of his wits. He let out a sudden sigh, drooping dejectedly against Kodya’s frame. Perhaps in a moment of insanity, Kodya is overwhelmed by a pang of pity and finds himself compelled to comfort. 

His hand settles awkwardly on top of the siren’s hair, smoothing down the familiar, green strands. The creature seems to prene under the attention and Kodya takes that as a good thing.

The siren leans closer—his fangs inches away from Kodya’s neck—and Kodya tries not to recoil at moist breath underneath his jaw.

“You really don’t remember?”

Kodya gives him a short nod, not quite trusting his own voice. The siren is silent for a beat or two.

“Well I suppose neither of us remembered last time so I don’t really know why I’m so surprised.”

He hums, content, and resettles himself against Kodya’s chest. Kodya wonders if the siren could feel his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage. In the midst of his panic-stricken mind, Kodya can faintly make out the scent of the siren—the earthy smell of a heavy storm alongside the coppery tint of blood. 

The silence becomes too unbearable.

“So, uh, are you going to eat me?”

The siren stiffens and Kodya curses his shitty foresight.

A shimmer of green scales catches his eye before he finds the siren’s tail wrapped around the length of his body. Kodya looks up in alarm only to catch a mischievous grin spreading across the creature’s face. 

The expression is hauntingly familiar.

“Heavens, no! In fact, _Kodya_ ,” he wraps his voice around his name appealingly and Kodya swallows down the lump in his throat.

“I don’t plan on letting you go for a very _long_ time.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


_1320 A.D. WESTERN ROMAN EMPIRE_

The air inside the desolate palace feels damp and the worn, stone walls manage to both crowd and loom over the knight. His torch only manages to illuminate a few meters in front of him, his armour made grating, awkward clangs as he stumbles through the castle halls. The stone walls echo his noise back at him and he grimaces, wondering if the dragon already knows of his presence.

The palace seems lifeless but the knight knows better.

To say he is not terrified would be a lie, but his courage and loyalty to his prince serves him better than his cowardice. He climbs the stone stairs with grim determination—each step more difficult than the last—until he finally arrives at a great, wooden door, light streaming past the crevices of the entrypoint.

He takes off his helmet, discarding it momentarily by his feet, before he takes a look through the doorknob. What he finds makes him absolutely ecstatic. Forgoing caution, he slams open the door with the length of his body. The wooden door creaks angrily against the action.

Kodya startles from his place on a rather dusty bed, whirling around to stare at the intruder with wide eyes.

“Prince Kodya, I have come to retrieve you!” the knight proclaims, tugging sharply at Kodya’s arm.

The prince wrenches his limb away, pushing him back violently to the knight’s surprise.

“ _Leave_ ,” Kodya hisses, beckoning the other male to the door. “Leave now before he finds you.”

The knight anchors his feet onto the ground after the initial shock has dissipated. He steels his body and refuses to budge—much to Kodya’s dismay.

“ _No_ , you need to come with me while the beast is still gone!”

He yanks once more at his arm and Kodya feels the last tendrils of his patience snap.

“Knight!” he bites out, seething and hot. “I will return on my own time. The dragon does not wish to harm me but I’m afraid you do not have the same privilege.”

The knight opens his mouth to respond but then a tremor fills the palace, the ground quakes and dust shakes itself loose from the wooden columns in the ceiling. He freezes, his blood running cold, yet he unsheaths his sword and grips it with trembling hands. Another shudder passes through the castle and Kodya curses under his breath, pushing at the knight insistently.

A viscous roar echoes through the stone halls. The walls shake violently, heightening as the creature comes closer.

“Leave,” Kodya urges, “You need to leave now.”

The knight is afraid, youthful eyes that peer openly at the prince and Kodya can feel the panic emanating from his tremoring frame. The knight is afraid and he is going to die but he is willing to risk his life to protect Kodya nonetheless.

“No, I will not abandon you. It is my sworn duty to protect the royal blood.”

Kodya is almost touched by his sheer, stupid determination.

“Forget duty! You will die if you do not go.” 

For a moment, the knight hesitates and Kodya feels hopeful.

The sound of splintering wood fills the air and Kodya can barely move in time to pull the knight out of a projection of green lightning. There is a deep, livid growl before a creature the size of a small cottage barrels into the room. Purple, reptilian eyes flash dangerously at the pair and Kodya nearly succumbs to the boiling frustration arising in his mind.

The knight charges at the dragon against Kodya’s cries.

His sword bounces back harmlessly against the creature’s scales—more so aggravating the dragon than damaging it.

A low growl emits from its throat, purple eyes flashing dangerously at the knight. He opens his mouth and green lightning barely grazes his helmet. The knight freezes in place, terror rooting him to the ground. The dragon opens its mouth in a ferocious roar, tendrils of lightning lash recklessly out of its skin. It crawls closer to the knight and Kodya feels panic swirling in his stomach. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay quiet.

“Don’t! Do not hurt the knight,” Kodya begs and the dragon freezes at his pleading tone. “Spare him, _please_ , spare him.”

A displeased growl emanates from the dragon’s throat but it makes no move to bite the knight’s head off.

Kodya breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

He flashes the dragon a nervous, grateful smile and it huffs in response, smoke billowing out of his nostrils into Kodya’s face.

_Fucking possessive brat._

He walks over to where the knight is frozen—save a slight tremor in his frame—and crosses his arms, attempting his best to pull off the ‘disappointed authority’ look.

“Leave. That is an order.”

The knight nods, offering no resistance, and almost trips over his feet in his haste to depart. Kodya ignores the dragon’s amused snort and listens as the knight’s footsteps soften with distance. A shadow descends over his body and he grimaces as the dragon wraps its body around his own, its leathery wings coming to rest on top of Kodya. It purrs with content as he idly strokes its wings.

“Gyrus, you ought to lay off the flashy kidnappings. I can come see you on my own time.”

Gyrus lets out a disgruntled huff and Kodya snorts, absently running his fingers against the cold sheen of Gyrus’s scales.

He isn’t able to speak in this lifetime but Kodya understands nonetheless.

_You never visit enough._

  
  
  
  
  


_1911 A.D. - ATLANTIC OCEAN_

The both of them remember.

And when they find each other, it is as glorious as a dream come true.

The cold ocean air bites at their cheeks, numbs their fingers past the point of feeling but they don’t care. It is quiet and peaceful on that deck, everyone having returned to the festivities indoors once the sun had set. So they kiss alone and it is eternal, it is filling, it is the flush of love that fills their bodies to the brink. The world seems to disappear around them and it is not long before Gyrus pulls away, the frigid cold finally getting to him.

“Meet me again tomorrow. Same spot before dawn,” he says breathlessly and Kodya can only dumbly watch the puffs of his warm breath dissipate into the air. 

He presses a gentle kiss onto Kodya’s red nose and brushes back a lock of hair, waiting patiently for an answer.

Kodya nods, relishing once more in Gyrus’s embrace before breaking off and heading back into his quarters.

He watches Kodya descend into the ship’s interior, his pulse thrumming with excitement for the early morning. Gyrus returns into his own room soon after, yet sleep does not come easy to him. Although his body has long since settled into the warmth of the cabin, his cheeks remain flushed as if bitten by the cold air. Joy bubbles in his chest and Gyrus can barely contain the gleeful smile that tugs on his lips.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Neither of them know that the ship will not last to see the rising sun. They are destined to reunite but they are not meant to live long in this lifetime.

The fates are not cruel people but lovers cannot have eternity together without paying a price.

The titanic strikes the iceberg that night and Kodya has never been a strong swimmer.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_2016 A.D. - SOUTH KOREA_

“I told you to cover up better!” Kodya says hotly, slipping into his sneakers. “And now you’re sick and miserable on a vacation day.”

“Kodyaaa,” Nephthys whines, burrowing tightly into her fortress of blankets. “Where are you going? Don’t leave me, I’m dying, Kodya, dying! Don’t you care?”

She sneezes consecutively like a dust-covered kitten and slumps miserably into the bed with a drawn out groan.

He sighs, long and suffering.

“Don’t worry, Neph, I won’t be gone for long. I’m just grabbing some medicine from the nearest store. I’ll tell Ragan to entertain you or something.”

Nephthys immediately springs to life.

“Ragan? Her? No! She’ll just make fun of me. It’s like she lives off of other people’s torment—Hey, Kodya! Kodya, are you listening to me?”

Her cries become muffled as Kodya shuts the door a tad bit too forcefully.

The walk to the nearest grocery store is peaceful and Kodya can’t help but to stop and stare at the architecture in the busy, foreign street. It isn’t often that he gets to leave America and the abundance of neon signs and seafood stalls is intriguing to say the least. The exploration becomes boring rather quickly without Nephthys so Kodya decides to leave the rest of the streets unexplored. He’s about to call it a day and return to their hotel with the medication but a flash of familiar green catches his eye.

Then Kodya sees _him_ and the entire world falls away. 

The memories flood his brain and he nearly topples over from the sheer volume of them. The fleshy bite of figs, the press of cold scales and the smell of ocean air—they are vivid images of past lives. Gyrus stumbles forwards—overwhelmed—his lavender eyes piercing into Kodya’s.

“Kodya,” Gyrus whispers, quiet and unbelieving. He reaches out to touch him but stops short of a couple of inches.

It reminds Kodya of Greece. 

“Gyrus,” he responds, almost breathless.

Nothing else is said.

They stand, unmoving, in the silence. The moment feels delicate as if any move they make now could drastically change the outcome of their meeting. Perhaps it is out of irrational fear or maybe the experience gained from their past lives, but neither of them can find the courage to move forward—too afraid of what could become of the other. 

Kodya twitches.

Disbelief suspends itself in the air between them and, all of a sudden, like a tense string cut in half, he snaps.

His body moves.

They embrace and it is as lovely as the both of them remember. 

Gyrus feels warm against him, smells like the first breath of spring—crisp and refreshing and hauntingly familiar. Kodya breathes him in, clutches onto Gyrus’s coat and holds him as close as he possibly could.

They laugh and they kiss and they cry—holding on so desperately as if the other was a lifeline. There are gasps coming from all around them—scandalous or awed or disgusted—but they can’t find it in themselves to care. They have found each other again, they are soulmates and they have reunited. It is an exhilarating emotion that fills their bodies to the brim, ecstatic and addictive with love.

They live together like they did in a couple of their lifetimes, waking up to breathe life into each other every day. They will wake up to their jobs in the day and sleep as tangled limbs in the night. They share tales of their cultures and families and friends, catching up on the lives where the other was absent. Kodya and Gyrus are happy and sated.

It is a modest, calm life.

And they’ll die of course—they die everytime. It’s inevitable and a trade, it’s the constant of the universe. There is pain and horrible, horrible loneliness that comes with death and it is as cruel as it is unavoidable.

The pain of separation is nearly unbearable but they have long since accepted it.

They’ll meet again in another lifetime and the wait is always—without fail—worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> fff i've had this au for a real song time and its so nice to get it out <33


End file.
